


the calm that summer brings

by youcouldmakealife



Series: between the teeth [42]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7087789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I hate both of you,” David mumbles.</p>
<p>“Yes, but now you have <i>Robbie</i>,” Kiro says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the calm that summer brings

They’re going on a road trip to Florida in a week. Even if David hadn’t known about the trip, which would be unlikely considering he generally knew what games were upcoming and prepared accordingly, and Florida was…personal, he would have been made aware by a text from Kiro, saying _See you in a week!_ and then including a number of emoticons including at least three different versions of smiley faces, a sun, and two male avatars holding hands.

David deletes the text, because it’s — it’s just Kiro and if anyone saw it and assumed something — gay — they would be wrong, but David certainly doesn’t want to tempt fate. 

He keeps the text following, however, a _We are getting drinks after the game. No arguing._ , and replies with _Okay_ and then a smiley face.

David wouldn’t have been able to forget that they were going to Florida in the week following — as unlikely as that also would have been — because Kiro sends him a text every day counting down and making far too many plans to be feasible, considering the Capitals are playing the Lightning two days following. On the morning of the game David receives another picture of Kiro’s cat with his jersey, this time appearing to use it as a blanket, and again okays Kiro putting it on Instagram, though he’s not sure how interested people would be to see a picture of Orange doing basically the same thing.

_I think Orange will not cheer for me today_ Kiro sends with a string of sad faces.

_I’m sure she will_ , David replies, then promptly feels ridiculous, because she’s a cat, and obviously has no capacity to understand hockey, let alone cheer for a team. _You’re her favourite_ , he sends, after, because he’s sure, at least, that’s true. Kiro feeds her, after all, and David’s positive he’s a good pet owner, would have been positive even if he hadn’t seen picture after picture of Kiro spoiling his cat.

_Cats do not understand loyalty_ , Kiro says, and David snorts.

*

They beat Florida pretty handily, which is unsurprising. Matthews gets a goal off Parent’s skate, Oleg another that tips off the blade of Jake’s stick, so half the goals that go into Florida’s net are technically scored by the Panthers, which has to sting.

Jake never really talked to David on the ice, even when they were — what they were, always had a running commentary with his team and the refs, but wasn’t one of those players who ran their mouths at their opponents. David wasn’t expecting him to say anything, which is maybe why he’s off balance when he does.

After the third goal — David’s, which means Jake’s -2 on the night now — Jake says ‘that was a nice goal’ before the next face off, and it messes David up more than any chirp would have. He’s sure that wasn’t Jake’s intention. For all his borderline plays, the amount he crosses the line, he’s always wanted to win honestly, the same as David, even if his version of ‘honestly’ involves far more penalty minutes.

His distraction hardly matters, and the game closes 4-0, the second straight game the Panthers have been shut out. Celebration in the room after is present but muted, because the Lightning are on a five game win streak right now, are creeping up to Washington in the standings. It’s a unanimous opinion that those two points mean a lot more than the two they just secured, but a shut out is a shut out regardless of the strength of the opponent, and Crane deserves his due, so some of the guys are talking about going out.

“Chaps, drinks?” Robbie says.

“I can’t,” David says. “I’m meeting a friend.”

“Tell Kirill he still owes me a hundred dollars,” Oleg calls out from his stall.

“Wait, why?” David asks.

“He lost a bet,” Oleg says.

“What’d you bet about?” David says, and frowns when Oleg raises his eyebrows and clearly declines to answer.

“Did you —” David starts. “Do you want to come?” he asks, a little reluctantly. Oleg’s spent a lot of time around Kiro as well, and he didn’t invite Oleg, that David knows of, but he’d probably like to see him, and — 

David doesn’t really want Oleg to come. He feels guilty about it as soon as he realises it.

“No, go have —” Oleg starts.

“Fun?” David says, and then sighs loudly when Oleg winks at him.

“Oh my god, Kurmazov is like your dad,” Robbie says, sounding delighted. “Your embarrassing Russian dad.”

“He’s not embarrassing,” David says, and then, “He’s not my _dad_.”

“He just winked at you,” Robbie says. “I didn’t know people actually _winked in real life_.”

“I can hear you, Lombardi,” Oleg says, dry.

“Shit, sorry!” Robbie says, and then quieter, “Your _scary_ Russian dad.”

“He’s not scary either,” David says, exasperated. “You’re ridiculous.”

“That is definitely something people have told me,” Robbie says agreeably.

*

Kiro’s waiting for him not far from the room, holds his arms out the way David usually sees in kids waiting for a parent to pick them up.

“Walk into the hug,” he says, demanding, and David laughs, allows Kiro to give him one of those Kiro hugs, the ones that are longer and tighter than what seems to be generally acceptable.

“Hi Davidson,” Kiro says, when he’s released him.

“Hi,” David says. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Kiro says. “Now, I think it is fair for winner to buy drinks?”

“Sure,” David says. “Where are you taking me?”

Kiro ends up taking him to a place he’s been before, which he supposes isn’t surprising, since the Panthers probably have consensus places. He’d be worried about some other Panthers being there, but he doubts anyone’s going out after that game.

“What is the most expensive drink on your menu?” Kiro asks the waitress while David scowls at him, but ends up ordering them a pitcher in the end.

Kiro has a number of Orange pictures that didn’t make it to Instagram, a number of Emily with Orange, presumably the weekend she brought her to Florida, and he proceeds to show David all of them. David doesn’t mind: it’s not like Oleg or Salonen with their daughters, where it’s like “and this is us building a sand castle — and this is the sandcastle falling down”, Kiro seems to have a funny story for all the pictures he takes. He gets to the end, ends up on his most recent picture, which is Gallagher and Kiro pulling faces, presumably today, since Kiro’s wearing the same shirt now. David sees it for only a second before Kiro thumbs his phone off.

“Things are better, then?” David asks. “With the team?”

“Things are fine,” Kiro says. “You worry too much.”

It’s not really something David can believably deny. His phone buzzes in his pocket, saving him from trying to deny it anyway, and inevitably getting Kiro’s unimpressed face in response.

“Sorry, I — it might be important?” David says. Kiro sends him texts all the time, but considering Kiro’s sitting across from him, it’s probably not from him.

_I think your dad is winking at me now too_ , Robbie’s sent him. _does this mean he’s going to kill me?_

_He’s not my dad_ , David says. 

_you didn’t answer if he’s going to kill me_ , Robbie sends back immediately.

_Maybe_ , David replies, then tucks his phone away. “Sorry, that was — Oleg’s freaking out Robbie.”

“Robbie?” Kiro says, voice doing something David doesn’t get.

“Lombardi?” David says. “He’s one of our defencemen.”

“ _Robbie_?” Kiro repeats.

“What?” David asks.

“You do not call anyone by their name,” Kiro says. 

“I call everyone by their name,” David says, and Kiro gives him an unimpressed look. 

“Last name does not count, Davidson,” Kiro says. “And never nicknames.”

“That’s not even _my_ name,” David says, and Kiro waves his hand dismissively. “I called you Kiro when you asked.”

“Because I bullied you to do it,” Kiro says. “How many years did you know Oleg before you stopped calling him Kurmazov?”

“Shut up,” David mumbles.

“Tell me about _Robbie_ ,” Kiro says.

“Stop saying his name like that,” David says.

“Absolutely not,” Kiro says. “Is he cute?”

“What?” David says, then, “No, it’s not — _Kiro_.”

“Just a question,” Kiro asks, sounding innocent, but David knows that’s a lie.

“We’re just friends,” David says. “I guess. What, why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” Kiro says, and then kicks David under the table, also for no reason, when David asks.

“Oleg says you owe him a hundred bucks,” David says spitefully.

“I hoped he would forget,” Kiro says, sighing. 

“What’d you bet about?” David asks, and Kiro gives him the _exact_ look Oleg did.

“I hate both of you,” David mumbles.

“Yes, but now you have _Robbie_ ,” Kiro says.

*

David gets back right before curfew, runs into a few guys doing the same, Crane leaning heavily on Matthews’ shoulder, and David holds the elevator doors for them. “Guess you’re not playing in Tampa, bud,” Matthews is saying, and Crane’s arguing that incoherently. At least, David assumes he’s arguing, just because it seems more likely than him agreeing.

“Need a hand?” David asks.

“Nah, I’m good,” Matthews says. “He’s as light as he is a lightweight.”

“Fuck you,” Crane says, the first thing he’s said that David’s understood.

“Nice shut out, Crane,” David says.

“Thanks Chapman,” Crane says, then says something incoherent again, at least to David, though Matthews laughs.

The next morning Crane’s wearing sun glasses on the short flight to Tampa. David hopes he’s got it together tomorrow. It’s not like they’d be in bad shape if Richard was in net — the Caps back up is better than many of the starting goalies in the league — but people are already talking about a Vezina for Crane this season, even though that’s obviously incredibly premature.

They practice soon after they arrive, get settled, but the second day no one has to be anywhere until they head to Amalie Arena for pregame. Team breakfast is optional, that morning, and it’s half empty, many apparently choosing to sleep in or order room service. Robbie isn’t at team breakfast, but he is banging on the door to David’s room an hour and a half later, while David’s halfway through an email to Caps PR about an upcoming charity event.

“You get any paler and I’m going to see right through you,” Robbie says. “We’re going to the pool.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” David says.

“We’re not swimming, shorts are fine,” Robbie says, then, “You don’t have shorts, do you.”

“No,” David says.

“Okay, stay here,” Robbie says, then returns soon after David’s finished writing his email with a bag from the hotel’s store. “These guys are fucking extortionists,” Robbie says, then shoves the bag into David’s hands. “Meet me by the pool in ten or I’m banging on your door again.”

There’s a pair of plain black swim trunks in the bag with a price tag on them that makes David wince in agreement on the extortionist front and resolve to pay Robbie back, or at least buy him dinner if he’s like Oleg about taking money. 

He puts them on, grabs the sunscreen he brought from the bathroom. He should probably put it on before he goes out, but he has a feeling Robbie wasn’t lying about coming back if David didn’t show up, so he heads down, finds Robbie easily, since his own bathing suit is as bright as David’s is nondescript.

David sits in the chair Robbie snagged for him, gets to putting his sunscreen on. There are some chairs under umbrellas, which may have been a better idea because it’s already pretty hot out, but Robbie would probably just say that defeated the purpose.

“Dude, I think you’re good,” Robbie says. “Like, you don’t need to _see_ a layer of sunscreen for it to work.”

“I haven’t rubbed it in yet,” David says.

“Yeah, you rub it in,” Robbie says, waggling his eyebrows, and David ignores him, focuses on…rubbing in shouldn’t sound dirty, Robbie’s ridiculous.

“You already put some on?” David asks, since all Robbie has on the table beside him is his phone.

Robbie shrugs loosely.

“Aren’t you going to put any on?” David asks, once he’s done and Robbie’s made no moves to do the same. “If you don’t have any you can use mine.”

“Nah, I’m Italian,” Robbie says. “I never burn, I’m good to go.”

“I wasn’t aware being Italian prevented skin cancer,” David says.

“You’re going to keep on me until I put some on, aren’t you,” Robbie says, not even a question.

“Even if you don’t burn, long term exposure—” David starts.

“Okay, give me the fucking sunscreen,” Robbie says, then, “SPF _fifty_? What, do you want me to get _paler_? No, don’t say anything, I’m putting it on.”

“Good,” David says. “Thank you.”

“Fucking _fifty_ ,” Robbie mutters. “You secretly Irish or something? I knew this guy, burned if he — never mind.”

“Not that I know of?” David says.

“You’re just forever a boy scout, then?” Robbie asks.

“I wasn’t a boy scout,” David says.

“They don’t have boy scouts in Canada?” Robbie asks.

“They do,” David says. “I just wasn’t one.”

“I am genuinely shocked and kind of sad about that,” Robbie says. “For real.”

“Sorry,” David says.

“Sorry,” Robbie mouths, then, “Okay, so I think your dad is going to kill me, also for real.”

“He’s not my dad,” David says. “You’re not going to stop calling him my dad, are you?”

“Nope, never, deal with it,” Robbie says, then flips his sunglasses down over his eyes. 

“What’d Oleg do?” David asks.

“It’s not what he did, it’s how he does it,” Robbie says. “Also, the winking freaks me out.”

“Yeah, me too,” David agrees, and frowns at the fist Robbie holds out before tentatively knocking his own against it.

“Don’t tell your dad I’m afraid of him,” Robbie says.

“I’m pretty sure he already knows,” David says, then when Robbie tips his sunglasses down to squint at him, “But I won’t.”

“Good man,” Robbie says. “Now shh, we’re tanning.”

“You can’t tan if you talk?” David asks.

“Shh,” Robbie repeats, and David rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything, lets the Florida heat lull him into the sort of calm that summer always brings.


End file.
